


Below the Belt

by Momma_Time



Series: Detroit: Become Fannon [12]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: LITERALLY, M/M, RK1700 - Freeform, Sort Of, concon, fighting below the belt goes to new lengths, gets handsy but doesn't completely dip into smut, this is based on a post I reblogged earlier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 09:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time
Summary: Based on a post on Tumblr about seeing your OTP in a fight and it escalating into a heated make-out so, you know, that's where this is going.





	Below the Belt

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to two people:  
> My gaming buddy Itsmyboi because my darling dear has been waiting on some goofy things like this and I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Hopefully, I'll have something more complete in the future for you like you've requested.  
> And  
> Cyberlifesconnorisnowready for putting up with all of my incessant questions and wanting their opinions on things for the Halloween prompt fic I'm working on.

Connor was spent at this point. Fighting a human or any other android would have resulted in a quick takedown. Of fucking course, the one time he's already in need of a recharge period, Nines pops in and drags him to the gym at the precinct for a not so friendly chat. Dammit, Nines, he just wanted to go into sleep mode for a couple of hours.  
  
But no. This fucker decided that it would be fun to flaunt his "superiority" over Connor and kick his ass.  
  
None of the blows were supposed to be fatal, or even do enough damage that would land one of them in a CyberLife clinic, and yet Connor swore he was fighting for his life here.  
  
No matter how many hits he blocked or how many punches or throws he sent Nines' way, Connor couldn't block Nines' strikes enough to keep it from staggering him; and none of his hits or kicks seemed to reach their mark. Thank fuck they were on the same side or Connor knew damn well he'd have been dead a year ago.  
  
The only advantage he had was his speed, and even then, speed won't help you if someone has enough force behind their blows. He'd fallen on his ass a few times now and had needed to scramble to his feet and find his balance as Nines tried to follow up on the hits. It was fucking exhausting, and the asshole wouldn't let up.  
  
They were on opposite sides of the ring now, panting to cool their systems down. Connor had a hand at his side, and he quickly brushed off the warning in his vision saying that there was a dent on his shell where Nines had kicked him a little too hard. At this point, he'd rather be decommissioned than have to deal with this any longer; it'd be less embarrassing.  
  
And fuck that man; he didn't look the least bit affected aside from trying to cool down before they attacked one another again. Not a hair out of place, and yet Connor knew his perfectly coiffed hair was a curly mess and likely sticking out everywhere. Did Nines have a single wrinkle in his clothes? No. Any blue blood on him? He had a couple drops of Connor's blood on his hands but none of his own. They'd changed their clothes so they wouldn't ruin their suits too, not that it would matter if they got blood on them. Connor was down to a t-shirt and sweats that stopped just below his knees, and Nines had thrown on shorts and a tank, and he still had the fucking audacity to look like a regal king over there.  
  
"Need a break, Connor?" Nines asked with a smirk.  
  
Fuck this guy.  
  
"No." He did need one, and because he'd lied and Nines _knew_ he'd lied to him, he didn't warn Connor before charging. Connor barely ducked under the punch and spun low behind Nines to kick the middle of his back to force him forward. Nines stumbled a little and used his next stabilizing step to rebalance and change direction, grabbing Connor's leg and yanking him forward. Connor yelped as an arm hit his chest and he was tipped back. The lack of balance allowed Nines to force Connor to the floor with a heavy thud.  
  
His leg was still in the air with Nines holding it up; the arm was still pressing heavily at his chest to keep him pinned. Connor tried to struggle against the hold, but with Nines pushing the entirety of his weight on him, he wasn't getting very far.  
  
"Are you _quite_ finished?"  
  
"Fuck you." Connor squirmed again, hands prying at the arm on his chest as started trying to plan a way out of this.  
  
"Maybe after this, sure," he teased. Just once, Connor would like to win and wipe the smug look off of Nines' face. Who gave a rat's ass at the joke Nines was trying to tell? The man who couldn't understand a fucking knock-knock joke was using innuendos like it was a normal concept for him.  
  
Actually, this could be of use to him. Nines usually initiated everything else in their friendship; Connor may as well fight below the belt. Connor managed to press one bare foot on the mat beneath Nines and feigned a struggle to boost the man's ego enough for Connor to catch him unaware.  
  
With a sudden push of his foot and a buck of his hips, he forced Nines to lurch forward to keep his balance; Connor threw his arms around Nines' neck and used the man's motion to drag him the rest of the way down into a kiss. He felt Nines freeze above him, and to try and short-circuit his brain the rest of the way, Connor ground against the leg between his own. He wished he was faking that shudder, but if it kept Nines distracted, Connor didn't have to admit it.  
  
Nines' used his hold on Connor's leg to push it closer to Connor's chest and he groaned when he was close enough to thrust against Connor roughly. "Fuck, baby boy."  
  
The "endearment" startled a laugh out of Connor, who used his arms around Nines' neck to pull him closer. He arched beneath him with a gasp when the arm that had been pinning his chest pulled away to reach beneath Connor to get a handful of his ass. Nines ducked his head to latch his teeth onto to Connor's neck and continued to rut against him.  
  
Oh. Fuck. Connor was supposed to be fighting dirty, not getting distracted.  
  
Connor shifted beneath Nines, purposefully showing that he intended to wrap both legs around him rather than have one sandwiched between Nines' thighs. Nines didn't think a damn thing of it and pulled away to accommodate him. First mistake: letting Connor get his legs around him. Second mistake: not pinning Connor's hands or arms. Third mistake: mistaking the next roll of Connor's hips as a silent plea for more.  
  
Which is how Connor twisted and used Nines' weight to flip them over, pinning Nines' arms under his knees to keep him down.  
  
Nines' eyes were wide in shock. "Fuck you."  
  
"I'm hoping for that when we get home, yeah. I think I've earned it after this." Connor, for the first time in what seemed like years, was finally able to be smug about beating Nines' at something. Even if it didn't last, Connor could hold this over Nines' head for weeks. "I think I'll have you lay down like this and order you to keep your hands off of me while I fuck myself on your—"  
  
"Connor. You finish that sentence, and we will _not_ make it home." Nines' eyes shouldn't be that dark or dangerous; it should be fucking illegal. Along with his hair finally being mussed and pulled out of its gelled style, and the tank that had ridden up while they were on the floor, and fucking hell, Connor wanted to do more to get him like this.  
  
"Is that a challenge?"  
  
"That pretty ass of yours will not stay that way if you keep it up."  
  
Connor smirked and reached down to run his fingertips over Nines' throat. "Think I could feel myself fucking your throat if my hand covered your neck?"  
  
" _Connor_ ," came the warning. The tone mixed with how Nines was glaring at him now sent a shiver down Connor's spine and a spark into his core.  
  
Connor could feel how stiff Nines' was beneath him, how quickly the coiled for a fight tenseness had switched to a fight for restraint. Fucking hell. As much as he hated how much stronger Nines was, Connor could appreciate the feel of that power in how Nines felt beneath or above him. And using it in something like this? Connor would complain far less about it.  
  
Connor pretended to have mercy on him and leaned over Nines to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. He stayed that way for a moment, giving Nines a chance to relax before he broke the silence with, "You know, according to what I read up on our models, I have a little more flexibility than you."  
  
"I do not...oh." Nines went from confused to aroused in a split second, and Connor smirked down at him.  
  
"You could bend me over just about anything, in any direction, and I could take it."  
  
"Fucking...fuck, get off of me. We're going home."  
  
"Not until you say I won this round."  
  
"If it will get you off of me long enough for us to get home and bend you over the desk in our office, _fine_. You win. Now get the fuck off of me."  
  
Grinning, Connor slid off of Nines to the side and gracefully stood, hand out to help Nines to his feet. He waited until they were in the locker room and grabbing their things to tease Nines again. "And Nines? Remember that this is _my_ reward and not _yours_. I want to ride you, not have you fuck me over a desk."  
  
\--  
  
Connor had the pleasure of enjoying both that night, along with a few other surprises. If nothing else, he hoped he could get Nines to at least fake letting Connor win so he could do this again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Crits? Prompts?  
> Comment below or come find me on Tumblr at ixhadbadxdays


End file.
